On May 24, 1940, the sky was clear over France.

The early summer sun is not violent, and even at noon it only warms the fertile land of France with just the right amount of heat, and the wind gusts blow through the fields, making people feel refreshed.

Let. Pierre is now lying on his comfortable wire bed, enjoying a cosy nap. He slept deeply, and the water in the glass on the bedside table shook with a snort.

Suddenly, a deeper rumbling sound joined his "playing", and as the strange sound slowly approached, even the ground began to vibrate slightly. The rumbling was getting louder and louder, and it was already audible that it was mixed with a squeaky and screeching sound of metallic rubbing. The ground shook more and more violently, and the whole house began to shake with the sound. The glass of water slowly slid towards the edge of the bedside table with this vibration, and finally fell to the floor with a "pop".

Let. Pierre was finally awakened from his sweet sleep, and he sat up sharply, looking at the shaking walls around him in a daze to wonder what was going on.

But when he could make out the rumbling sound, he roared angrily.

"These damn Germans, they don't let people get a good night's sleep."

He jumped out of bed, shirtless, and rushed to the bedroom balcony door in his comfortable cotton slippers, and looked out through the crack in the door.

Let. Pierre's home was built at the intersection of two roads and was a modest two-storey wooden building. Like other French farmer's houses, the small hug is not very ornate, but it is very sturdy and durable.

Fifteen years ago, Jean, who had just retired from the army. Pierre bought the small farm with all his savings. He brought his pregnant wife from the hustle and bustle of the city to this peaceful and comfortable place. He pushed the dilapidated house, built the small building with his own hands, and planted a large patch of apple trees and cherries in the wasteland behind the house. In the days that followed, as he worked hard, he not only expanded the area of his farm, but also hired many workers.

Since the two roads in front of his house were the main roads from Cambrai to Arras, he shrewdly added a few rooms in the small building, so that those passers-by could stay with him, and the income was really good every month. Until the war broke out suddenly, let. Pierre has always lived a comfortable and comfortable life.

At the beginning of the war, although his hired men suddenly left their farms one by one and were drafted into the army, although his two daughters brought back from the town bad news about how strong the German ** team was, Jean. Pierre was not at all worried that the war would implicate his farm.

Of course, he sent his wife and daughters to his grandmother's house in Le Havre just to be on the safe side, but he insisted on staying, believing that the Germans would not be able to break through the Maginot Line, let alone storm the French mainland to his farm.

Unexpectedly, the Germans soon came, and they swept across the land like a swarm of locusts. Listened to the message on the radio. Pierre learned that they were coming from Belgium and not the Maginot Line, as he had always believed.

When his neighbors on a nearby farm all started fleeing south with all their savings, Jean. Pierre still hasn't left, he is reluctant to abandon his home, the place he has devoted more than ten years of his heart and soul to.

In the first days, let. Pierre had been watching with trepidation as the whole group of Germans in front of his door marched westward with their chests held high, their heads held high. From time to time, countless tanks and armored vehicles whizzed by, raising a cloud of dust. But after a few days he found that the Germans did not seem to be interested in his farm, and although occasionally a few soldiers would run into his yard, they would only go to his well to draw water, and when they had drunk they would immediately run out of their yard to catch up with the advancing troops.

Troops kept passing by the road in front of him, and they didn't seem to have any intention of stopping at him. Let. Pierre gradually got used to all this. He felt that since the Germans did not come to harass him, then there was no need for him to go into any trouble, as long as he could live his life peacefully.

One night a convoy of cars drove from the direction of Cambrai, and on board was a group of German officers, and they rang for Jean. The door of Pierre's house was almost given at that time. Pierre was scared to death. As a result, the officers finally made him understand that they wanted to spend the night at his house. Let. Pierre hurriedly arranged rooms for them and prepared food for them, and the Germans seemed very satisfied, and they thanked him vigorously. The Germans left early the next morning, and they even left him some marks on the table, which made Jean. Pierre felt that the Germans were not all cold-blooded murderers as the newspapers say, demons were greedy villains.

But he was a little outraged by the Germans' behaviour the previous night, and they marched in the middle of the night, and the roar of trucks and tanks rang out all night, keeping him awake all night, and it was not until early this morning that all the troops had finally passed.

In the morning, let's. Pierre dragged his tired body to his field to look after the crops, then went to the orchard for a while, and after lunch he went to bed again to make up for the night's sleep.

But what he didn't expect was that he had just slept for less than an hour, and the Germans woke him up from his sleep again. Pierre was really angry. He leaned over the crack of the balcony door and looked at the road in front of the courtyard, but he saw nothing, the road was empty. He noticed that the rumble suddenly disappeared, and his house stopped shaking.

"Did the Germans pass? They ran really fast. ”

Let. Pierre left the balcony door and walked to his bed, feeling uncomfortable not waking up, ready to continue his nap. But just as he touched the pillow, there was a low humming sound in the distance.

"Hell, I really can't live this day."

Let. Pierre got up from the bed again, and slammed open the balcony door to look up at the sky. In the distance, he saw a large group of planes flying towards his house, and it looked like there were fifty or sixty of them, some large and some small, in a neat formation.

"You bastards, there's no end to it, the tanks just passed and the planes came again, and they didn't let people sleep, okay, you wait, I'm going to give you a little color to see."

Let. Pierre flailed his fist desperately at the approaching planes. Then he rushed back to his room, put on his coarse pajamas, and ran downstairs.

Let. Pierre hurriedly pulled out his tattered single-barreled shotgun from the storage room below the stairs, loaded it with bullets, and rushed out of the door with the shotgun in his hand.

As soon as he rushed into the yard, he looked into the sky, and at this moment the group of planes were flying over his yard in a neat formation, and it seemed to be flying quite high, but the huge iron cross sign under the planes could still be seen clearly.

Let. Pierre didn't say a word, and raising his hand at the group of planes was a shot. He knew his bullets would never hit those planes, but he still found it enjoyable. He continued to scream and reload one bullet, two shots, three shots until the planes flew far out of his sight.

"Even if you run fast, I want you to know what will happen if you disturb someone else's sleep."

Let. Pierre spat on the ground, then slung the gun over his shoulder and turned triumphantly, ready to go back to sleep.

But when he turned around, he was taken aback by what he saw.

Right next to his house there were now a dozen German tanks and armored vehicles parked in the yard, and one tank even broke his fence and parked in the yard. A few German soldiers were frying water from his well, several officers were standing next to the tank with a map, and the rest of the German soldiers were sitting on top of the tank with food and kettles in their hands, apparently preparing to eat.

But strangely enough, the Germans were now stunned and frozen. All the Germans kept their posture for the moment before, and looked at themselves with a look of surprise and a little doubt. Let. Pierre and the Germans stared at each other as motionless as stones.

Finally, the leading officer began to move, he slowly raised his arm, stretched out a finger and pointed at Jean. Pierre, as if he was desperately enduring something, his fingers trembled a little, and the expression on his face was indescribably strange. The German soldiers at the well also slowly lowered their buckets, pulled their rifles from behind, and began to slowly give in. Pierre leaned over.

"O Virgin Mary!"

Let. Pierre finally reacted. He quickly drew a cross on his chest, then quickly threw the gun to the ground, and raised his hands high.

And just in let's. When Pierre surrendered to the German ** team, Xu Jun was sitting proudly on the JU52 dedicated to the command, looking out the window at the neat escort group, and thinking about his next step after landing.

Xu Jun would never have known that his huge fleet had been the victim of a ridiculous attack by a stupid French peasant with a tattered shotgun.

He would not have known that the French peasant, who was a little stupid, would solve a very big problem for himself in the near future.

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